Bikers and Balls: A Drag Queen’s Wild Night By O’Shea Jackson
Well hello there, bitches! It’s your girl O’Shea and I’m back with another filthy, disgusting, utterly depraved tale of my latest sexual adventure. You see, sometimes a queen just needs a little rough trade to get her blood pumping (and other fluids, if you know what I mean). So last Saturday night, I threw on my hottest leather biker chick getup and headed to the seediest, most depraved biker bar I know, because that’s exactly the kind of trouble I was looking for.
I strutted in around 9pm, my tits nearly spilling out of my tight black tank top, a pair of form-fitting jeans showing off every curve of my luscious body, and skull buckles on my belt and boots. I was the whole package, baby. The bar was packed with filthy bikers, but I immediately zeroed in on a tall, blonde, bearded stud sitting alone at the end of the bar. He looked like an entire meal and I was famished, honey.
I swayed over to him, my hips rolling in a way that could stop a clock. “Well aren’t you a big, sweaty muscle bottom,” I purred, leaning in close. “I’m O’Shea. And I’m gonna fuck you tonight.”
His eyes widened and he gulped, then tossed back the rest of his beer. “Damn, I like a woman who knows what she wants,” he grunted. “I’m Dirk. Now c’mere you sexy beast.”
And just like that, our mouths crashed together in a passionate, sloppy kiss. Not breaking the kiss, we stumbled our way to the ladies’ room, because trust me, it’s always cleaner than the men’s. Once inside, we just went at it, hands roaming, tongues dancing.
I yanked open his fly and pulled out his big, fat cock, nice and hard for me already. Then I unzipped my own jeans and let my huge, 9-inch monster cock spring free. He groaned at the sight, licking his lips.
“Oh fuck baby, that thing is a beast,” he panted, wrapping his strong hands around both our erections and pumping them together. I pre-cummed all over his fingers.
“Get on your f-ing knees,” I growled. So he did. Dropped right down and started sucking my cock like his life depended on it. Slurping and gagging on it, worshipping my shaft with his tongue like a pro.
“Unnngh fuck yeah, suck that cock,” I moaned, fucking his face. “Fucking take it all.”
He did, all the way to the balls, his nose buried in my pubes. Then he started deepthroating me like a champ, relaxing his throat so I could pump my cock in and out. Sloppy wet sounds filled the room.
“Oh shit oh fuck oh shit,” I groaned, my balls tightening. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum!”
And I did, right down his throat. I held his head in place as I emptied my balls into his mouth and he swallowed it all like a good little cock slut. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes as I panted, my cock still in his mouth.
“My place,” I gasped out.
He just nodded, licked his lips, and stood up. Because we both knew one thing – that was just the appetizer, baby. The night was still young and I had a whole lot more fucking to do.
And that’s the story of how I went hunting for a little rough trade at the biker bar and ended up with a blonde, bearded stud on his knees choking on my big ol’ cock. It’s just another night in the life of your girl O’Shea.
Kisses bathroom blowies!
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